


I hate you... I miss you...

by JJKMagic



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Hyrule Warriors
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 17:04:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4357313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJKMagic/pseuds/JJKMagic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>GHIRAZANT WEEK DAY 4: BOND</p><p>Ghirahim always spoke of a bond, of a red thread of fate that would forever connect them but what will become of that bond when Zant has to return to his era?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I hate you... I miss you...

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the GhiraZant week on tumblr.
> 
> Feel free to visit me over [there](http://jjkmagic.tumblr.com/)^^

Zant hated Ghirahim, he really did.

“ _I hate you_ ,” he muttered as softly glowing tears ran down his face, hidden from the world by his intimidating helmet.

Ghirahim always spoke of a _bond_ , of a “red thread of fate” that would forever connect them.

He had been lying.

“ _I hate you_ ,” he muttered, a Twili guard at each side, guiding him through the underground chambers of the palace.

This was it. His official coronation.

With the Twilight Princess beaten in a war of the eras he had returned to his own era alone, utterly alone. Alone enough to be the one rightful king, too alone to feel any joy or pride over it.

“ _I hate you…_ ”

 _I miss you_ , he didn't say but it was still echoing through his mind, _all the time_.

How long he had been waiting for this. For the acceptance of his people, for the ceremony here, in the Twili’s innermost sanctuary. But now that it was happening, it didn’t mean anything to him. He was barely even aware of what was going on around him.

His people paid him their respect, there was a little celebration.

Zant felt just as lonely with all of them around, as he did as the halls had already emptied out again.

The guards, _his personal guard_ his subconsciousness provided, appeared next to him again, expecting to accompany him back to the surface but as he showed no intention of doing so they were clever enough to go and leave him some room.

This was the first time he was in the sanctuary without a set of watchful eyes on him. There was no need to watch him anymore. All of this now rightfully belonged to him.

A sigh, that was more of a soft whimper, left his lips.

Maybe it would get easier, Zant thought, maybe it would hurt less.

That’s what people said in these situations, right?

Zant honestly thought they had no idea what they were even talking about.

He had met the most amazing person in the world and he had honestly believed him when he spoke of a fated bond but more than that he had probably just never imagined to ever be separated from him again. Thoughts of returning to his own era had been so far from his mind, even less alone.

He hadn’t even thought about it.

“ _I hate you…._ ”

Just as he muttered this he sensed something off. Something was wrong with the usually so pristine floor. Actually he was quite sure it had been perfectly pristine just a second ago.

As he retracted his helmet to get a closer look though he realized he was too far gone to just “get better”.

He was hallucinating, he had to be. There simply was no other explanation for the thin red line in front of him.

He looked around but there was nothing off except for the thin red thread he felt was mocking him. He entertained the idea of just playing along, but at the same time he was too afraid to allow any kind of hope to settle in his heart.

It had already been crushed once before, the simple hope of having found someone, of not being alone anymore. 

But… what was there to lose?

With careful steps he walked along the path the thread laid out before him until he stood in front of the passage he knew led to the treasury. He had been here before. 

The room was filled with artifacts sacred to the Twilis, among them an empty pedestal that must have held the Fused Shadow that Midna had once stolen. 

But the thread didn’t end there, instead it led to a door he had never even realized was there, the intricate pattern fusing perfectly with the one of the wall. But there was undeniably a soft crack beneath it, the red thread securely tucked underneath.

How could a hallucination, _a creation of his own mind_ , possibly have known of this?

The door slid open softly under the touch of his hand, the room behind obviously hadn’t been entered in a long time.

It was a second treasury, he realized, but the artifacts here clearly not Twili-made, possibly relics from the time before his people had been banned to the Twilight Realm. Despite his sullen state of mind he couldn’t help but stare in awe before his eyes returned to the fine line on the ground, little red curls that at this point only seemed to be teasing him. Their target was obvious.

There was a locked door at the other end of the room. Actually, to say it was locked was an understatement. It was practically covered in chains emanating a soft light with a giant lock at its center.

He could feel the magic strengthening the chains and was suddenly filled with a sense of urgency.

Uncaring of the possible consequences he called upon his twilight magic and with a blast the chains fell away clinking loudly as they hit the ground.

The thread was forgotten as soon as the door opened, revealing a room, dark and empty except for a stony pedestal at its center and on it a sword, a solid black form he would recognize anywhere. Too often had he seen it swinging dangerously close to his own body and still felt perfectly calm.

Zant’s heart stopped for a moment and then started beating wildly, uncontrolled.

Chains clung to the sword’s handle, emanating the same light as the ones keeping the door locked, connecting it to the ground and the ceiling, like a prisoner suspended in mid-air even though it was firmly grounded.

Despite his heart beating fast his steps were slow, cautious, _disbelieving_ but at the same time he was so eager to touch, to feel, to _hope_.

The chains fell away, easily cut with magic but they were obviously not made to withstand Twilight magic but to seal away another and the moment they fell away a dark power filled the room, engulfing the blade.

 _Would you be so kind?_ A sultry voice sounded right in his ear, no, right in his mind, soft and yet resonating through his entire being because it was just so familiar.

His hands took hold of the handle and pulled and the moment the sword was freed from its restraints it dissipated into a cloud of diamonds, cold and steady hands holding his as he was faced with steely blue eyes and a self-assured smirk he had grown all too accustomed to.

“I told you, didn’t I?”

Zant realized he was staring stupidly, still shocked. When the words finally sunk in, he abruptly looked at the ground but there was no trace of a thread of any kind.

As he looked up again, Ghirahim was grinning knowingly and that was the moment he just smashed their lips together, holding on for dear life.

“ _I hate you_ ,” he mumbled into a cold neck as they separated.

“Now why would that be, my little Twili?” the demon asked softly, amusement obvious in his voice.

“You lied.”

“But I am here now, am I not?” Ghirahim replied, well aware of what the Twili was talking about.

“But you didn’t say you’d disappear first!” Zant whined, tightening his hold on the lithe form in his arms, “ _I missed you…_ ”

“I’m sorry,” the demon purred softly, “but I’ll stay now, okay?”

“Promise you’re not lying?”

“Did I lie to you before?”

The Twili just shook his head as his lover stroked his back in a calming matter. 

If the bond he spoke of meant that he’d always return, Zant was fine with that. He just wished the demon had told him that sooner and saved him the despair.

“ _I love you_ ,” he muttered this time and he could hear Ghirahim chuckle softly.

“I love you too, my little Twili…”


End file.
